


Hunger Is In The Eye Of The Cyborg

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Sickfic, Stuffing, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Genji longs to be human, but he also longs for some solitude from the constant in-fighting of Blackwatch. He finds himself doing a little eating, and realizing Americans don’t really mean it when they call a place “All you can eat.”





	Hunger Is In The Eye Of The Cyborg

**Author's Note:**

> squidbiscuit asked: AHH~ Your stories are a blessing~ Would you perhaps be willing to write anything with Genji getting sick? Maybe blackwatch Genji being a little overzealous with how much his (at least partially???) cyborg stomach can handle~~~
> 
> Graphic depictions of vomiting ahead.

What was the point of calling it ‘all you could eat’ if they got upset with you and asked you to leave before you’d had all you could?

That was the question that plagued Genji as he saw the wait staff eyeing him with looks of both disbelief and distain as he polished off yet another bowl of ramen. Theirs was, perhaps, not as great as the first noodle joint, but it would do. “ _So long as they do not make me leave before I am done.”_

As the waitress returned, she only brought a large glass of water. “Would you like for us to bring you something off the dessert menu? Complements of our chef, of course.”

Genji eyed her, drinking the broth from the bowl and not saying a word until he got it down. “You are asking me to leave.”

“Not at all sir, it is just—“

“This is all you can eat.” He interrupted in a soft, calm voice.

“It is, sir, it is just—“

“Americans are without honor.” He decided, begrudgingly taking the dessert menu. There were many desserts on there being passed as Japanese when they were truly Japanese-American fusion, much like the larger part of their menu had been. Something caught his eye though, and he furrowed his brow. “What is ice cream cake?”

She looked at him surprised. “It’s a cake…with ice cream in it.”

“You can’t bake ice cream, don’t be absurd.” First Americans didn’t know the meaning of ‘all you can eat’ and now they were trying to convince him ice cream could be put inside of a cake…

“Oh no, the ice cream isn’t baked inside,” she smiled, amusement dancing in her blue eyes. “Allow me to bring you some, and you can see for yourself if you like it.”

It didn’t seem like they were going to bring him another bowl of noodles so… “Fine. Bring me your ice cream cake.”

“Chocolate or Vanilla?” she asked, seeming pleased that he accepted.

“Not Strawberry.” Was his answer, sounding inappropriately stubborn for the situation.

“Alright…I will bring you…Not Strawberry…” She agreed, taking the empty bowls in front of him, and heading back into the kitchen.

“There you are, kid! I tell ya, you Shimada’s are a helluva pain to track down!” A thick southern drawl announced far too loudly through the otherwise quiet and mostly empty restaurant. It was loud enough that Genji cringed, the sound almost echoing in his head. How the hell the cowboy had tracked him down, he was unsure. He hadn’t exactly been trying to hide, but he hadn’t told anyone where he’d disappeared to either.

Jesse McCree slid into the seat opposite of him, lighting his cigar, and then tipping his hat at the offended looking wait staff.

“You can’t smoke in here.” Genji said, looking away from him, annoyed that his solitude had been interrupted. For as much as the younger Shimada craved a more  _human_  experience, it was less about companionship from any of his team members, and more the finer things. Eating, using the restroom, experiencing a physical touch…

“You the smoke police?” McCree asked, leaning back in his chair, propping his feet on another chair.

“They’re going to make you leave.” Irritation crept within his voice.

“And how they gon’ do that? I don’t see an army here.” Jesse shrugged unphased by it.

Genji snorted. “They will make you eat cake.” A brief smile broke out on his scarred lips before it vanished again.

“Shit, you didn’t say they were givin’ free cake,” He said, suddenly very interested.

“You haven’t earned it.”

McCree smirked. “You just watch me, Shimada.”

The waitress returned with an entire cake, iced in white and electric blue icing. There was a sickening amount of round sprinkles on it, likely meant to look like confetti. Either way, she sat it before him, all the while McCree was righting his chair, leaning on his elbow on the table, and grinning at her. “Here you go, sir. Enjoy.”

As her gaze found his, he winked and tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”

There was a look in her eyes, one that said she was too tired and ready to go home to deal with his cowboy bullshit. Genji caught it. Hell, Genji  _related_  to it.

McCree missed it entirely. “How ‘bout you bring me one of them cakes there in strawberry?”

Genji kicked him beneath the table, then rubbed his knee. “Sorry, signal crossed.”

She looked between them, the strange cyborg gorging himself on cake, and his cowboy friend who apparently thought he was hot shit. “We don’t have strawberry.”

“Well, can ya cut some up and make them look pretty on top? I got a friend who’d like that.” He gave her his most charming smile.

“If it means you two will leave,” she mumbled under her breath, turning to go get him some ‘strawberry’ cake.

“See, ya jest have charisma.” McCree said proudly, going back to smoking his cigar and lounging.

“Mmm.” Genji said absently, paying him little attention as he finally got his first taste of cake. It was like…a birthday party in a bite. He rubbed his distended stomach, shoveling another bite into his mouth, and another before he had even swallowed.

“You’re going to make yourself sick…” McCree said, equal parts amazed that he was packing it away like that, and kind of intrigued in the way some of total wrecks…He couldn’t look away.

“I don’t… _munch munch munch_ …get sick…” He took another bite, and then twitched painfully, his eye twitching.

McCree nearly choked on his cigar. “Cyborgs get brain freeze I take it? Angela’s gonna love that.”

“Take your strawberry cake and leave.”

“What? And miss out on this show?” He asked, watching him eat. “Your gut is going to burst, make the good Doctor cuss, and it’s going to complete my day.”

Genji shook his head, digging back into his cake. “You are a menace to society. Coming from me, that is saying something.”

“Well, thank ya kindly. I will take that complement, and store it in my hat for a rainy day.” Jesse smiled.

“Might as well, you’re not storing anything else in it.” Genji grumbled, eating another bite and finding some difficulty getting it down. His throat tried to close around it, resisting its entry into the stomach. He forced it though, and frowned for it.

“You Shimada’s got snark, I’ll say that.” McCree said, unbothered at all by his sass. He did notice the way Genji had paused his eating, looking a little pale. Finally…this was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. “What’s Shimada with you?” He saw the opening and he took it, erupting in obnoxious roaring laughter that shook the table.

Genji belched, loudly, and covered his mouth with his hand. “I…think I have overestimated my appetite.”

“Maybe you just have an appetite bigger than your stomach,” McCree said, looking around for the waitress. “Forget the cake, we should get back before Reyes shits.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be along soon.” Genji said, another belch forcing its way out at the end. He was looking sicker by the second.

“Let’s get you some fresh air,” he said, moving around the table to give Genji a hand. “Damn, you look like you’re about six months along.”

Genji glared at him, starting to put his face mask back on, but paused and handed it to McCree. “Try not to break it with your ham fists.”

“I’ll do my best.” He said amused, helping him out of the seat. Genji’s stomach gurgled audibly, and he swallowed hard around a swell of pressure in his throat.

Thankfully, they had given him his bill to pay earlier in the evening with their first attempt to get him to leave, allowing McCree to lead him straight outside while the cybernetic ninja held his stomach in one hand and his mouth covered with the other.

The air outside the door was so cool in contrast that it stole his breath, and with the sudden surprise of it, he lost control and heaved a long, loud belch.

“Shit…shit shit shit…over here, over here…” McCree said, trying to usher him out of the way of the door way, practically dragging him. The jerkiness of his actions jarred Genji enough that he got a couple of steps before he let loose a projectile wave of bright blue and white from the ice cream cake, still cold on the way up.

He got a couple of rhythmic, heaving breaths before he brought up another wave of thick, sticky, cold vomit, splattering audibly on the pavement. McCree was a little dumbfounded on what to do, wondering if Genji would even feel it if he rubbed his back, and instead took his hat off to fan him with while he continued his painful retching, adding to the puddle on the concrete.

“You’ll feel better when it’s out,” he said, though not so sure himself.

Genji held up his middle finger to him, just as he brought up a flood of noodles that seemed like they’d reattached in his stomach, coughing miserably for it.

McCree pulled his hat back and started fanning himself. Genji vomited a little while longer, waiting til his heaving stopped before he motioned for his visor. McCree handed it over, looking a little green himself as the younger Shimada snapped the face mask back into place. “I’m ready to head back.”

And with that, he headed back as if there had never been anything wrong. McCree glanced at the puddle he left, and stifled a heave, moving carefully around it to catch back up with Genji. 


End file.
